


One Tin Soldier Rides Away

by yastaghr



Series: Scribbling is its own Language - Oneshots [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lyrics Included, Post-War, Songfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Unreliable Narrator, War Era, and then not, riverperson was human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9942725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yastaghr/pseuds/yastaghr
Summary: Songfic - One Tin SoldierA story of the Riverperson (male pronouns). From the perspective of the Riverperson.





	

A white horse, coated in dust, thundered through the eerily silent forest. Pines whispered, the river swore, all the world around him seemed to know his sin. He hummed, trying to drown it out.

 

A sudden stop sent the soldier tumbling from his mount, armor clattering and clanging. Gods, he was a mess, useless, murderer, slaughterer...he pushed away the thoughts. He had a promise to keep, one last promise and then...and then…

 

He picked himself up, trying in vain to straighten the rusty old tin the armorer had fitted him with before giving up on the hopeless cause. At least his passengers hadn’t been startled, even if his sweet old mare was. Poor thing looked done in, and by the stars against the mountains before him, he was almost there.

 

Carefully setting down his burden, he returned to the mare. She was favoring her left hock, but he knew it was just Lily’s way of saying she was damned tired of running and wanted a rest, thank you very much. He smiled at his old friend, saddened by how much...stupidity he had put her through. No more, though. 

 

He looked around. This stretch of woods was familiar, was it...yes, it was! He smiled. One of the...one of their villages wasn’t too far from here, empty now, of course, but there’d be people along before long, he was sure. Humans were too damned greedy to let a nice village like that sit empty for the memory of...he cursed his own race and their never ending drive to live, to grow, to do. Nothing ever sat for long, nothing was ever left to wait in peace. At least for Lily it would be a blessing.

Going off the polestar and a distant memory of smiling faces, the soldier unsaddled his mare, sending her off in the direction of the village with a gentle smack. She looked hurt, but ambled off, always the lazybones when he wasn’t on at her. He hoped the next human to ride her would be as kind.

 

He sighed. Damn, he was tired, but...he had a promise to keep. He turned to the two children he’d been trying to ignore for so long. 

 

Two white-furred faces stared up at him, eyes wide, breathing shallow, “Hey, uh...sorry...yeah, sorry about that. I’m not at my best right now, sorry,” he felt like he was apologizing too much. He’d have to carry them of the way, so might as well get this over with.

 

“My name’s...well, my da’s name was...sorry. I’m human, right?” They nodded, “Humans...we go by two names, sometimes more...our da’s name goes at the end, and our special name at the front. My da’s name was Per, and me ma called me River, so...yeah, they call me River Person,” nothing, “Sorry...I’m not so good at talking to people…” He drifted off, humming a few bars of a song, as he always did when he was nervous. 

 

Their eyes were wide, shocked, sad, lonely. He felt the echoes and could not bear to be parted, could not bear to partake. He felt the madness beginning to return, and shoved it away. He still had a promise to keep, a ferry to make. Ferry these children to the mountain, an oath from a dying king with his dying breath. They are the prince and princess of everyone’s hopes and dreams. 

 

He hummed, and suddenly, he couldn’t understand why he’d never just sung. It wasn’t as if he had anything to lose now, anyway, “Tra la la,” then, remembering his audience, “Care for a ride?”

 

\-----

 

A battered soldier in rusting tin climbs up the mountain in the dawn’s grey light. His eyes are sunken, his voice is deep, and over the cliff drifts the strains of a song, “Tra la la, oh, we’re here.”

 

A female monster who looked suspiciously like a dog peered over the edge. He felt cheered when they seemed to notice the children. Ah good. The forest was wild today. He felt...tired. Soft hands pried the children from his grasp...his promise was fulfilled.

 

“Oh, sir? If it...if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, would you be willing to run into town and fetch some supplies for us?” He turned, and could not resist those eyes. He sighed. If they wanted him, his death could wait.

 

“Tra la la, it is a promise. Tra la la.”

 

Now he could...he felt the forest beacon him, and the cliffside below. He could stay here for a while, that would be nice. He began to sing, quietly, the words appearing from some distant shore.

 

\-----

 

Listen, children, to a story

That was written long ago,

'Bout a kingdom on a mountain

And the valley-folk below.

 

On the mountain was a treasure

Buried deep beneath a stone,

And the valley-people swore

They'd have it for their very own.

 

\-----

 

The soldier sighed, his lumps of tin long gone, a robe of purple in their place. The path was worn, but he had a promise to keep. Every time a promise, and a new one once fulfilled. Tra la la, so it goes.

 

Some moments he recognised his mind had snapped he knew not when, but that didn’t seem to matter much. He came, he went, he spoke, he sang. No one seemed to mind much. The humans who wished to trade with monsters trusted him to trade with the monsters who wished to trade with the humans. Tra la la.

 

Years had passed, or was it a day? Time was like a stream, ambling along. He didn’t seem to mind. Moments passed and moments came, and here he was, a promise to keep, before the king who was once a prince who was once a child on the back of a dusty white horse. He shoved the shudder aside, he had a promise to keep.

 

“Ah, River Person, would you like a cup of tea?”

 

“Tra la la, the road is wild today,” The king sighed, but knew the king knew he was trying his best. He stood outside and spoke outside and sang, and he could not find the words to speak inside the moment. Still, he listened, and he had a promise to keep.

 

“Well...you have brought us a grave message. So many...so many dead, and a compromise…” The tear of orange streaked down white. Magic was odd, was it not? It filled and it emptied, colored the world, and in his heart he felt the stirrings of its whispers. Humans who lost their humanity could gain their monstrosity, wasn’t that interesting? He wondered where he could get a gondola. He felt the need to bring one.

 

“...Tell me, old friend...I know you speak in riddles, but sometimes there is an odd kind of truth, and I’ve never known you to be wrong...what will become of us, should I accept this choice?”

 

He felt a stirring and a spiralling and a spinning. Tra la la, the waters of time are turbulent. Tread carefully, “Tra la la, here is a prophecy. The Angel... The One Who Has Seen The Surface... They will return. And the Underground will go empty. Tra la la.”

 

The king sat up, a cup of tea falling to the floor. Oops, “Is this...how can this be?”

 

“Tra la la, I shall ride my boat until the promise is filled and all three shall leave the Barrier behind. Tra la la, it is a promise. Tra la la.”

 

He felt...awe at the future splitting before him, Waterfalls and Rivers spreading apart. Still, it was a promise. He really must find a boat.

  
  


\-----

 

So the people of the valley

Sent a message up the hill,

Asking for the buried treasure,

Tons of gold for which they'd kill.

 

Came an answer from the kingdom,

"With our brothers we will share

All the secrets of our mountain,

All the riches buried there.”

 

\-----

 

“Tra la la. Today is a day of memories reborn.”

 

A small white one once again rode with him, two larger white ones standing behind. Two and one and one and two. What has come before will follow, and what follows has already been seen. He hoped the child to be found today would find his song appealing. Many seemed to find him weird, but he only sang as the world saw fit, and only when singing did he seem to fit. A puzzle piece slots into place.

 

\-----

 

Grief and sorrow, sorrow and grief. The song would never be as bright as it once was, for death, even now, followed his footsteps. A kindness born and taken away, like a Lily collapsed in the rain. So many he loved had ridden with him, only to vanish on a final journey and leave him behind. 

 

But that was okay. The horse, the prince, the human, the surface. All vanished, all changed. All were born anew. He just had to sing his song and keep his promise, and sooner or later they’d join him on another right.

 

He bent down, caring not for the water seeping into his ancient cloak.

 

“Tra la la, you agree with me. A white lily on a green field. A floating lily on a wild river. An orange lily on a ribbon of black. So it goes, Tra la la.”

 

\-----

 

Now the valley cried with anger,

"Mount your horses! Draw your sword!"

And they killed the mountain-people,

So they won their just reward.

 

Standing by the buried treasure,

On the mountain, dark and red.

Found the stone and turned it over...

"Peace on Earth" was all it said.

 

\-----

 

Standing in his boat, he smiled at the human, though they saw it not. Shadows and secrets, hooded intent, but does it mask kindness or despair? He did not know. Still, today was a beautiful day, and he had a promise to keep.

 

“Tra la la, care for a ride?”

 

\-----

 

The angel comes again, they who had seen the surface and emptied the Underground. An old story, but in all stories a grain of truth, no? Three triangles, but did they know the legend true? Three angels awaited, together to walk under the sun. Only when they stood together would he leave, and here were two, The Flower and The Child. Where was the third?

 

“Tra la la, oh, we have arrived. Come again some-” 

 

The Judge stood before him, smile on his face, and took The Child by their hand, The Flower in his other. A moment out of time, a moment where they meet. The river merges, and on we go!

 

“Tra la la, wait for me,” He stepped off his boat and it strode beside him, his promise complete. It would be nice to see the sun. He might even finish the song.

 

\-----

 

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,

Go ahead and cheat a friend.

Do it in the name of Heaven,

Justify it in the end.

There won't be no trumpets ringing

Come the judgement day,

For on the bloody morning after....

One tin soldier rides away.

  
  



End file.
